I love it when I get to share my personal journey and artistic vision with potential investors. In recent events that were held for the Naked vs. Nude photography show, it was fun seeing how many (including artists) thought my series of fine art nude photography resembles those of paintings and drawings. What they did not know was that I like emitting a sense of dream/fairy tale/feeling through my work. As a result, the work seems "out-of-this-world" as my client-turned-friend Sylvia likes to describe.

When in Dyrholaey, Iceland, we went to meet the ever-so-clumsy Atlantic puffins. While waiting for their royal presence either from their burrows or back from sea, my mind (and eyes) wondered off... The reward for the easily-distracted mind is a painting on a black canvas made of sand (see, not all who wander are lost).

If my new writer friend Deji paints pictures with words, do you hear the song that I danced across the black sand beach in Iceland?

Every spring and summer, Iceland becomes the breeding home for 60 percent of the world's Atlantic puffins. Being there at the end of summer means that we were there at the tail-end of the season. Despite an unsuccessful earlier attempt to meet the "clowns of the sea", we were lucky to have a gander at the highly anticipated lundi (the Iclandic name for puffins), even if it means missing dinner, because the colony is most active at evening, before heading out to sea to roost.

Despite its large population, Atlantic puffins have been listed as vulnerable by the International Union for Conservation of Nature in its Red List of Threatened Species. Causes of population decline contributed by human activities may include the introduction of rats, cats, dogs and foxes onto some islands used for nesting, contamination by toxic residues, drowning in fishing nets, declining food supplies and climate change, etc.

It's not an easy task to photograph puffins in flight as these little cylindrical bodies (average 13 inches long) propel into the air like torpedos with no prior warning, with their wings that are adapted for swimming fluttering up to 400 times per minute. On a morning that only happens in dreams, I met this puffin appearing to soar high into the sky, higher than the mountains and the cloud. I knew it was some puffin chick's parent, rushing to the ocean to catch fish of the day for its only baby of that year. Dear puffin, may you be successful in raising more clowns of the sea, year after year.